


(i wish) love was enough

by heardarumor



Series: my friend makes me write stuff [6]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Addiction, Drug Abuse, F/M, Hospitals, Klaus is doing his best, They/Them Pronouns for Klaus Hargreeves, Vanya Hargreeves Needs A Hug, a bit of a weird format, a lot of things going on here, accidental overdosing, etc - Freeform, mentioned past suicide attempts, nonbinary klaus hargreeves, sort of artsy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21764791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heardarumor/pseuds/heardarumor
Summary: "if you don't wake up, um, i love you. i don't know if you can hear me, but dead people are your thing, so i bet you can. please don't leave me, klaus."—vanya finds out hospital waiting rooms aren't as comforting as they should be.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves/Vanya Hargreeves
Series: my friend makes me write stuff [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1545217
Comments: 2
Kudos: 56





	(i wish) love was enough

vanya taps her foot rhythmically against the tile, knows the noise is irritating the person sitting directly beside her, doesn't stop.

she can't stop.

vanya picks at her nails, her skin, anything she can, pulls a loose thread out of her sweater—klaus's sweater—that had been annoying her for months. anything to keep herself busy.

she was worried.

vanya was so _cold_ , wondered why waiting rooms feel so sterile and harsh. they were meant for families. why were they so harsh on the eyes? 

she was starting to get a migraine.

vanya could hear everything. there was a man wearing a leather jacket on the chair behind hers, he wouldn't stop fidgeting and she was very close to yelling at him. the leather cracking was starting to get irritating. there was a woman and her child, sharing a bag of cheetos. the sound of the bag crinkling was making her angry.

she was not in the mood.

vanya feels numb after three hours pass, and she hears nothing from the doctor.

she escapes to the girls bathroom, cringes when she remembers the time klaus followed her in a restaurant bathroom and got punched in the face by an employee.

vanya doesn't know what to do. finds herself in a position of desperation, finds herself climbing up on the tank of the toilet and sitting there, knees to her chest. she doesn't know what she'll do, if klaus doesn't wake up. she doesn't know who she'll be without them around, and she _really_ doesn't want to find out. 

she doesn't notice when she starts to cry.

vanya talks to herself, talks to klaus, talks to any spirit that may be in the bathroom. she doesn't know what she's doing, but she talks. 

"klaus, if you don't wake up, um, i love you. i don't know if you can hear me, but dead people... and things... are _your_ thing, so i bet you can. please don't leave me, klaus."

she feels like her body is shutting down by the time she walks back to the waiting room, noticing the doctor before even walking around the corner. 

dr. mcbride greets her with a firm handshake.

it reminds her of their father. she doesn't like it. she misses klaus's handshake, it was flimsy and always, always loose. she liked that better.

dr. mcbride looks deflated, but promises vanya it's good news, as he leads her down the hallway.

his hand is on her back, guiding her to klaus's room, and vanya wants to push him away. she doesn't. 

dr. mcbride warns her that klaus isn't awake yet, that when klaus wakes up, _if_ klaus wakes up, there's a possibility they won't remember her.

he uses the wrong pronouns, and it makes vanya want to tear her skin off. she offers a soft correction, which dr. mcbride regards with a hum of acknowledgment before opening klaus's room door. 

"talk to him—them. it'll help." he offers a kind smile before leaving, and vanya is staring at klaus's unconscious body when she hears the door click as it shuts.

vanya pulls one of the visitors chairs over to beside klaus's bed, settles in awkwardly and, talks. she talks about everything. she retells stories from when they were kids, stories klaus knows, stories klaus lived, but if there was a chance klaus could forget... she wanted to remind them. 

klaus is hooked up to _so many machines_ , and vanya feels uncomfortable just looking. she tries to ignore the machines, the ivs sticking out of klaus's arm, the tube in their mouth. she talks. she keeps talking.

she talks until her throat is dry, until it feels like if she talks anymore, she'll sever her vocal cords.

"klaus, i really am not sure how anything works so, you might not be able to hear me. i don't know, but, um. please wake up, a-and when you do, please remember me, okay? i need you to do that for me. i don't know what i'd do if you didn't remember me, or remember _us_ , or even yourself. i guess, maybe, if you don't remember us, then it's a sign. i don't know. i don't know how those things work. i guess—" vanya took a deep breath, blinking away tears, "i guess, _you_ taught me all i know." 

she doesn't notice she's holding their hand.

vanya doesn't notice when klaus's eyes open, doesn't notice when they start rubbing their thumb over the back of her hand. she's too focused on talking. the doctor told her to talk, that it would help, so she just keeps talking.

klaus lets her talk.

they listen. she makes dumb jokes here and there, maybe to lighten the mood, and klaus thinks if their throat wasn't so sore, they'd have laughed. they always laughed at her jokes.

klaus lets her talk until her voice is so raspy, they're worried, and they clench their fist around vanya's hand.

"what the f— _klaus_!" vanya exclaims, "shit, i need—i need to get the doctor," and just like that, her converse are squeaking as she runs down the hall to retrieve dr. mcbride.

klaus smiles to themself for a second.

the memories of what lead to this moment come flooding back, and klaus feels a migraine coming on. vanya always knew how to help with those.

vanya's methods never involved drugs. alcohol, sometimes, but never klaus's kind of drugs.

vanya was always trying to get klaus to commit to staying clean. klaus was certain that this time, they could. for vanya, if not anything else, because when they were floating somewhere between survival and the afterlife, they heard. they heard her crying, her desperate pleas from the hospital bathroom, and they wanted to grab her. to tell her it was all okay.

but it wasn't all okay.

klaus would address that later.

right now, the doctor was walking in and vanya was fidgeting with her sleeve behind him, nervous.

klaus would remind her to take an anxiety pill later. this wasn't the time to talk about pills.

vanya watches as dr. mcbride takes out the tube in klaus's mouth, watches as klaus swallows and tries to speak. it comes out scratchy, but it's them. 

she really wants klaus to stay sober this time, but she doesn't quite have too much faith in it.

vanya takes her seat beside the hospital bed again, silently hoping that she was enough—that love was enough, to keep klaus from slipping again.

when klaus's hand reaches for hers, vanya's faith starts to rebuild itself.

maybe they can do this together.

**Author's Note:**

> for my partner in cwime, the rosie to my rose. 
> 
> not my best work, but i think it's still decent. sorry for the weird, artsy fartsy format. i think it works best this way, personally.
> 
> written while listening to young lover (piano version) by st. vincent.


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